


Bobby Pins and a Bump Key

by Chebella1771



Series: a bump key [1]
Category: Star Wa, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Burglary, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Light BDSM, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Fluff, Oral Sex, PWP without Porn, Rough Sex, Tags May Change, The Author Regrets Everything, You Decide, cursing, is that a thing?, puppy threatening, thief kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chebella1771/pseuds/Chebella1771
Summary: He had two broken bobby pins and a bump key in his back pocket. Poor little shit, he thought. He was almost melancholy at how easy this would be and made a mental note to give Hux hell for it later for giving him this job in the first place.---And still, here she was, needing pills and booze and a dark, rich, 75% cacao bar of bullshit, coming to take Poe’s dog out. Because he was gay. And not fucking her. And had a dog.AKA right place, wrong time.





	1. surprise

**Author's Note:**

> *lights match and jumps into the Reylo dumpster* 
> 
> Hi. I literally woke up with this fic worm in my brain. I'm sorry.

 

* * *

 

 

 

To be fair, the kid’s apartment only had a twist lock and a deadbolt.

 

 

He had two broken bobby pins and a bump key in his back pocket. _Poor little shit_ , he thought. He was almost melancholy at how easy this would be and made a mental note to give Hux hell for it later for giving him this job in the first place.

 

 

But money talked, and Kylo was a good listener when he wanted to be. It also didn’t hurt that old Organa-Solo bitchface would flip a lid if he got this right.

 

 

Whistling to himself at the prospect, he looked around the hall, casually eagle-eyeing the walls and ceilings for cameras, the ping of an LED light, anything really that seemed remotely made within this century. But nope. All shit. Jesus, how did these people live in these little hell-holes like this?

 

 

The drywall was completely bare, save for a few “advertisements” from the apartment’s residents. One begged a passerby to take a litter of kittens off their hands (they _may_ have rabies but were up-to-date on their distemper shots), while another had a free garbage bag full of “mixed” clothes. Some stains, but all sizes. Splendid. Not to mention these were all _taped_ to the sheet rock. Taped. Not to mention he’d counted _six_ dead roaches on his ascent up the stairs (wooden and likely termite infested from the smell) to the third floor.

 

 

Kylo outwardly cringed at the memory and smoothed a gloved hand over his shoulder as if to brush the poor off. He reigned in his focus and cracked his neck as he got to work on the locks of unit 302. And by got to work, he meant a few quick flicks of his wrist with said bobby pin and bump key and a twist of the door knob.

 

 

Kylo: one. Cheap idiot: zero.

 

 

Before stepping inside, he pulled the black ski mask from his hoodie - also black - and tugged it over his head, pushing the long curls of his well-maintained hair toward the back of the mask through the eye holes. He hated these damn things. Gave him fucking hat hair after just an hour. But they could be necessary if what Hux had said was true. And it probably was, as much as he hated to admit it. God, did he hate to admit it.

 

 

 

He brandished open the paper-thin excuse for a door, shut it tight, turned around and-

 

_Fuck._

_Fuck._

Directly in front of him, sitting in its crate against the wall, was a _fucking puppy_. Yorkshire terrier, if he went by what he saw on the Westminster annual dog show. What could he say? He was a New Yorker who channel surfed.

 

 

The little black and tan ball of _fuck_ had the audacity to get up on its hind legs and _fucking whine._

 

 

He ran a hand down his face. Dogs were bad. Just all around bad. They bit, they growled, they could fucking eat you or rip off a limb, but the worst thing about them was that someone had to take care of them.

 

 

And the kid wasn’t here.

 

 

 

He knew that.

 

 

 

He knew that because he’d spent goddamn _weeks_ outside of this dump doing recon waiting for Dameron to go on this trip. This _week long trip_. And nobody left a motherfucking _puppy_ alone for a _week_ unless they were a heartless monster.

 

 

And at that thought, he heard the door right behind him open and shut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rey had a headache. And she wanted, no, _needed_ an ibuprofen. Or five. And liquor.

 

 

She’d had a shit day with all of her classes, Plutt was harassing her via text to pick up extra shifts at the shop, and her monthly was only a week away, which meant she was horny as fuck. And irritable and frustrated that the only person she had ever fucked was Poe Dameron, her ex. And somehow even he had – cordially – broken up with her so _he_ could get fucked by _her_ chem partner, Finn. Because he was gay. She had turned him _fucking gay_ , even if he denied it being her fault.

 

 

She mentally added chocolate to the things she needed at the moment.

 

 

And still, here she was, needing pills and booze and a dark, rich, 75% cacao bar of bullshit, coming to take Poe’s dog out. Because he was gay. And not fucking her. And had a dog. A purse dog. And he’d let her down so easy and so nicely, with his good hair and Hollywood smile, that she couldn’t say no when he asked her to dog-sit. And because she actually loved his little dog, Bebe, and needed every excuse she could think of to not go into the garage that Plutt owned. The shop smelled like…..well, Plutt, which was like moldy peanuts, burnt rubber, and cigarettes.

 

 

At least Poe’s apartment had a Glade plug-in and a cabinet full of delicious snacks.

 

 

Rey got out the spare key to Poe’s and opened the door, fully ready to make herself at home, until she was body slammed into the back of the door, the breath knocked out of her almost instantly.

 

 

_What the actual fuck._

 

 

She tried to scream until her lungs bled, but a hand the size of a fucking _trash can lid_ squeezed her cheeks so hard she thought her teeth might break. If she didn’t die, she was going to bruise later.

 

“If you _fucking_ make _one_ sound, I’m going to punt that dog over the balcony, do you understand?” If she hadn’t know by his massive, muscular frame, noticeable even beneath his black hoodie and jeans, that he was a man, she’d have figured it out by his deep, gravelly voice.

 

 

She stole a look at Bebe, who was jumping on her hind legs and wagging her docked tail.

 

This was the actual worst day of her life and it wasn’t even 1pm. She was going to get murdered in her gay, ex-boyfriend's house for taking his dog out to take a shit by a lumberjack. In a ski mask. In the summer, when it was a solid ninety plus degrees outside.

 

She tried to get the air back into her lungs, at the same time defend herself. But with her two wrists held above her head by _one_ of this man’s skillet sized hands, all she could do was kick and flail her legs, which he side-stepped easily.

 

 

She was sure he could hear her heart beating out of her chest. She would NOT cry.

 

 

He was reaching over her, behind her into the corner, the fuck. She vaguely realized that he smelled -god, amazing- then almost gagged at the thought. She stretched her jaw, free from his hold, and growled when she realized he was tying her hands up with the _dog lead_. She squirmed and kicked, trying to head butt him, even though he was a good foot taller than her. Maybe if she broke his sternum he would just die.

 

 

“That hurts, you fucking criminal!” she growled, organs now fully loaded and functioning. “Let me---!”

 

 

“That’s the point, sweetheart. I said one. fucking. sound.” The fingers were back to her jaw, his hands finished tying hers. He gripped her by the tank top and wrists, pushing her toward the meager dining room and quickly bound her to one of the chairs with the leash.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He’d have to act fast. The thing was probably from Ikea and looked like breaking before he even slid it across the floor.

 

 

He turned to the kitchen, searching frantically for the junk drawer. Everyone had a junk drawer.

 

 

He heard a grunt from the little brunette he’d just tied up, coming at him on her feet with the chair at her back. He almost laughed. She really wasn’t unpleasant to look at from what he could see behind his mask. The little hellcat.

 

 

“Ah-ah-ah,” he scolded, taking his boot and pushing her backward so that she and the chair fell backward onto the floor.

 

 

“Fuck!” she yelled, “HELP! There’s a fucking _thief_ in here, call 911!” she roared until her face was purple. She really wasn’t that loud, so he let her keep going.

 

 

Kylo gave a silent yelp of victory as he pulled open a drawer full of pens, post-its, and _tape_. Duct tape. Thanks, kid.

 

 

He bent down at the girl’s feet quickly, unwinding the tape with a loud _STRIPPP_ and-

 

 

The bitch kicked him in the fucking face.

 

 

“Fucking OW!” He yelled, not ignoring the task at hand. When her feet were taped against the chair legs, sweat pouring down his back, he jerked up the chair and whipped the mask off, walking to the mirror in the foyer.

 

 

He had actual blood running down his forehead, a gash _quite_ noticeable over his right brow.

 

 

“Look what you did,” he demanded, pointing at his face, “LOOK AT IT!”

 

 

She visibly blanched. The thief, burglar, whatever you wanted to call it, was young – her age, maybe a bit older – and had a headful of dark hair, curls plastered to his face from the heat of his mask. His cheeks were flushed from exertion, making the beauty marks and freckles across his face stand out. His left ear was poking through his hair. He didn’t look very happy.

 

 

She recovered quickly after seeing his face. “It’s an improvement. You deserved it!” Rey lowered her voice and furrowed her brow. She had to get out of this somehow. To survive. That was most important. “What do you _want_!? Let me go. Please. I don’t even live here…” She was staring at him.

 

 

He was wiping the blood up with a paper towel from the kitchen and then pocketed it. Rey saw him look her over…..once, maybe twice…….then stalked toward her and picked up the tape again.

 

 

“I don’t think so,” he rumbled, ripping a piece of tape with his teeth and placing it squarely over her mouth.

 

 

Well, shit.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 


	2. might as well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't look for plot holes or you'll find them..... =D All of this chapter will be Kylo's POV but next will probably be Rey's. Side note, v. inspired by MalevolentReverie bc her work is *sighgaspsob* amazing and also Kate McKinnon's character's retelling of her alien abduction. If you haven't seen that SNL skit, why? And my own dreams. Scary. Ok, have fun!

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The first rule was always to get out faster than you got in. And that was fast for him.

 

 

 

He’d already wasted _ten_ minutes immobilizing his little hellcat and he hadn’t even started looking for the goods yet.

 

 

 

Because it all boiled down to this: get the plans and then get out. Get out fast. That was the first rule, see?

 

 

 

Kylo was currently preoccupied by opening drawer after drawer, looking for what Hux had described as “a disc or a drive, maybe like a folder or stack of papers even”.

 

 

 

Truly helpful. Descriptive. Succinct.

 

 

 

All Snoke had informed Hux, and thus Kylo, was that Dameron was apparently a better aeronautic engineer than housekeeper and was currently employed by Snoke’s sole competitor, Organa-Solo, to design a different type of flying craft. As in, the first the world had ever seen. One that would tank Snoke’s now thriving First Order Air.

 

 

To be honest, Kylo didn’t give a shit about flying. Or aircrafts. Or the people who designed them. Hell, with his father as a test pilot and his mother the founder of the Resistance (what kind of political hippie-ass name was that anyway?), he hated the whole business all together. Or just hers, really. He’d been pawned off from parent to parent, uncle to aunt, cousin to cousin, until he’d had enough and decided to say fuck industry point blank and do what no one else had the skill of gumption to do – be a breaker. Steal from one, give to the other. Fuel the competition, of sorts, until it crashed. In fact, his mother should probably thank him since his stealthy work had only motivated her “team” to push the innovative envelope even harder to try to stay ahead.

 

They hadn’t.

 

 

Her success was amusingly impossible. Because Snoke had just recently acquired the best, which was Kylo. Who was used to deciphering the draw-ups, good at breaking entry, and anticipating, just by _feel_ , the unexpected.

 

 

Well, for the most part. He hadn’t really anticipated the girl. Speaking of which….

 

 

 

Kylo craned his head out of Dameron’s bedroom and peered into the dining room where his little hellcat sat bound, every few seconds arms giving a twitch or a flex, as if the leash would suddenly snap and give way to her freedom.

 

 

Nah. He was good at tying knots. He’d been a fucking Eagle Scout, and those little bastards could work magic with a few loops.

 

 

 

He’d noticed a few strands of her hair had fallen out of the bun on top of her head, undoubtedly from her constant wriggling. And there was a translucent strip of her tank top at the back, soaked from sweat, that displayed the strap of an evidently black bra. He briefly wondered what her little tits looked like.

 

 

 

Kylo swallowed and exhaled sharply through his nose.

 

 

 

It had been like _fifteen_ minutes now. He needed to pony the fuck up and ditch this dump. Growling to and at himself he closed the latest drawer under his inspection and moved on.

 

 

This was fucking ridiculous. He’d been through the kitchen, bathroom, and now Dameron’s bedroom and had found _nothing_. Nothing but a picture of Dameron with the girl currently tied up in the dining room, embracing in a cute little fucking hug. It was on his bedside table. Beside a big-ass black dildo and a calendar full of naked firemen.

 

 

 

Strange, but, in short, nothing.

 

 

 

He didn’t get it. It was too risky to keep blueprints on his person, especially when Dameron would be out boating in _Miami_. And he didn’t have them at the office, because Kylo had already _searched_ the office. _Twice_. And he wasn’t revisiting this shit hole. Ever. 

So, it came to this. He was really hoping it wouldn’t.

 

 

  
He looked over to Dameron’s desk, on which sat a _motherfucking Gateway_. Dameron was an engineer. And he had a Gateway computer. With a cow-print mousepad. Jesus, he hated this arrogant dickwad.

 

 

 

He was asking for a raise.

 

 

 

With a gloved press of his finger, he turned on the tower. Then the screen. And waited, just standing there. Finally, the monitor glowed a soft blue then flashed a small leopard print icon and a terrifying prompt.

 

 

 

**_Welcome,_ pdamnnnboi ! **

****

**_password: |______________________ **

 

 

 

 

  _“_ SHIT, DAMN, MOTHERFUCK _!!!”_ Kylo pulled his hair and kicked the desk as hard as he could with his steel-toed boot, leaving a sizeable splintered dent in the piece of furniture. Fuck that desk!

 

 

 

He was pissed. He was not a hacker.

 

 

 

Kylo made a beeline for Rey

 

 

 

“Hey!” he shouted, and she tried to crane her head backward to look at him charging from the bedroom. He looked fucking _pissed_ and it made her want to smile. So she did, even though it barely poked through with the _fucking piece of tape over her mouth_. “You’re going to help me,” he said as he came around to face her.

 

 

Rey raised her eyebrows and gave him a pointed, ‘ _I-don’t-fucking-think-so-jackass’_ look, shaking her head back and forth in the process. The motion made her breasts jiggle – just slightly – and he didn’t care enough at this point to not give them some apparent attention. He saw her act offended as his eyes swept over her frame.

 

 

 

And did it seem like her denim shorts were…shorter? He could see where they were stretched tight against her tan thighs, lines starting to form where she’d been sitting with her legs spread and taped for what had been…..

 

 

 

Now _thirty fucking minutes, Jesus_. He was past the point of no return. What did it even matter now? He might as well spend the night at Poe Dameron’s fucking apartment.

 

 

 

 

What the hell, might as well. He’d heard that once, somewhere. Two birds, one stone. Something like that too. And there was one about a fly and some honey.....

 

  

 

“How about this, little hellcat. How about I let you get up out of this chair and move around a bit, hm?” He crouched down, eye-level with her, and brought a hand to her cheek. She flinched, and he let out of puff of air in front of her face. It was how he laughed.

 

 

Her eyes darted back and forth across his face, obviously untrusting and thrown off by his change in demeanor.

 

  

“I’ll let you up. Promise. But you have to agree first. To be a good girl, yeah?” God, she was sweet now that he was looking at her.

 

 

Her big doe eyes were widening more and more, and he absentmindedly noted the shades of brown and green that flecked the irises – even a little taupe. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, which was still pink from the sun. He wondered how it would feel to run sunscreen over her shoulders and down her back with his calloused hands.

 

 

Now there was an idea.

 

 

That fucking dog chose now to let out the most pathetic bark. A yap. He'd honestly forgotten all about the little shit. He took it as a sign of approval.

 

His eyes came back to hers, and he grinned as he removed his hand from her cheek and peeled his gloves off, tossing them aside.

 

God, was there electricity running across his fingertips? He caressed her long neck, gently, in reverence, as his other came to rest on top of her bare thigh. His pants were starting to feel uncomfortable. A nuisance, really. Her skin was soft. 

                                         

 

He couldn’t tell if it was her or him that was shaking. Didn’t really fucking care.

 

 

Kylo cleared his throat as his thumb smoothed back and forward over her neck .“You kicked me earlier. That hurt,” he said, “but you aren’t going to do that again are you?” Her shoes were long gone, having been discarded after he’d finished with the tape at her ankles. “But I’m going to make sure. I know you’ve been with Dameron. I saw that fucking picture. He give you any weapons? Or are you hiding something, sweetheart? Have what I’m looking for?”

 

 

He knew she didn’t. And it was long past due to check – he wasn’t _that_ big of an idiot. But he had to check. For safety. Just to be sure…..If she turned out to have a USB or was carrying Dameron’s shit, well, that would just be a bonus at this point. 

 

 

“Stay still, little one….” He was practically purring, staring at her from between her thighs, now using both hands to now trail over her shoulders and down her arms. He could felt the goose bumps as they formed on her skin and the pulsing in his groin intensified. 

 

 

Her neck snapped from side to side, the tape muffling her protests as she tried to spew them forward. The baby hairs around her brow were starting to stick to her forehead just like his.

  

 

Her hands were bound to the chair, her shoulders pulled back and her pert little breasts pushed out. As he followed her forearms down to her wrists, physics forced him to lean closer, to reach.

 

 

Their faces were a hair’s breadth apart. She smelled _good_.

 

  

Slowly, his fingertips grazed across her collarbones and moved to cup her breasts. The pads of his bare thumbs brushed over the tops of her nipples and he _watched_ as they hardened underneath her tank top. He couldn’t help himself and let out a deep moan into the space of the apartment. Rey closed her eyes at the sound. She wasn’t thrashing anymore.

 

 

Kylo gave a firm squeeze to her tits before he moved down to her taut stomach, pausing in appreciation, and then….lower.

 

 

“Are you enjoying this, sweetheart? Hm?” She breathed harder in response. “Do you like being felt up by a bad man?”

 

 

His fingers were long enough and her shorts short enough for him to inch just one digit up past the opening of her shorts and into her panties.

 

 

 

“ _Fuck.”_ She was actually _wet_. Jesus Christ. Her panties were literally _damp_ from the juices pooling.

 

 

 

He snapped his head up to look at her, to gauge her response at being _caught_ like this, to demand a reason for why she _was fucking wet_. But she'd squeezed her eyes even tighter. He thought she might cry.

 

 

He slipped his middle finger into her wet little slit and she fucking _whimpered_. He was going to fucking come in his pants. He kept pumping his finger in and out through her shorts, not even managing the whole length, staring at her face the whole time. He curled it up a bit and she _moaned_.

 

  
“You little fucking whore. I’m fucking you with my fingers and you’re begging for it,” he rasped, his voice lowered a whole octave from before.

 

 

A single tear slid down her face but he could've sworn the angle of her hips had tilted up a few degrees.

 

 

Inspired, Kylo jerked up without preamble and tilted her chin up with the same hand that had been pleasuring her just seconds early. Her own slick spread across her face where he grabbed. 

 

 

With his other hand, he unzipped his jeans and pulled his long and hard cock from his briefs. He let it bob against his abdomen while he brushed a hand through his hair then allowed himself a few firm strokes as he watched her chest heave to get oxygen into her lungs and her eyes grow wide as saucers again. Wide and staring at his impressive cock.

 

 

He liked her staring. He wanted to let his spend spray all over that cute little face and her appalled expression. But that was a risk. She'd have to swallow.

 

 

 

“I’m going to take off that tape. And you’re going to thank me for it. And if you’re good,” he squeezed her cheeks, “if you’re good, I’ll make you cum. You want that, don’t you? I bet you'd like that....”

 

 

Rey was trying to hunch herself back into the chair, to get away again it would seem. That just wasn’t going to happen.

 

 

Before she could even scream, Kyo had ripped the tape roughly off her mouth, hooked a finger past her plush lips and into her mouth, and stuffed his cock into her wet heat.

 

 

“Ahhh! Fuck!” he yelled, squeezing the sides of her face for her to stay open. _This_ was what he’d needed. What a way to curb any frustration from a piss-poor break-in job on his end. What a detour. He felt her throat spasm around his cock and resisted the urge to slam his hips against her face.

 

“You bite, you do _anything_ ……Mmmm, shit…..anything I don’t ask, and I break your fucking jaw.” He let go of his dick to stroke the back of her head and tightened his hold on her to prove a point. Her eyes were pleading with him. “I’ll let you up after this, sweetheart…..now, _suck.”_

He really didn’t think she would. He hadn’t expected her to - not really. But the little bitch flicked her tongue against his cock and his heart palpitated. Her eyes were still strewn tight. He slowly let his finger slide out of her mouth and her lips tightened against his shaft as he drew his hips back and pumped them forward.

 

 

Holy fuck, she was letting him fuck her mouth. With her feet and wrists bound to a fucking chair, her neck craning down to take his cock. How had he deserved this slice of heaven?

 

 

Granted, he was pushing and pulling his cock so far down her throat that she didn’t really _have_ a chance to pull back, but still.

 

 

His hand fisted her topknot as he slammed particularly hard against her hot, wet little mouth. She gagged and some of her saliva dribbled down her chin.

 

 

He was going to come just looking at her.

 

 

“Take it….take this cock, baby….you’re doing so good,” he murmured as he rammed his cock back and forth past her lips. She had the nerve to look him in the eyes, challenge accepted, and suck exceptionally hard. “Don’t stop or I’ll fucking choke you!” Kylo was basically screaming at her now, his hand gripping her throat, cutting off her air supply as his seed shot into her mouth.

 

 

She was making noises against his pelvis, her nose shoved into the dark hair that dusted his cock. Whether they were groans of disgust or moans of accomplishment, he couldn’t say.

 

 

When he’d finished, he shoved her head backwards by her throat and stared.

 

 

They held each other’s gaze for a split second before she spoke.

 

 

“Un-fucking tie me, you disgusting creep.” Her voice was shaking and her eyes were watery, her lips still glistening with his jizz and her spit. Yet she raised her chin and gave him a determined look as if she were a fucking princess who hadn’t just gobbled down his come.

 

 

Not breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled his pants back into place and crouched down at her feet to start unbinding the tape. Her wrists were last, and she sprang up, toppling the chair over in the process.

 

 

She’d made it two feet before his hands were on her again, hands behind her back and elbows in his unyielding grasp.

 

 

 

“See? I promised. You’re up,” he said, his head craning so he could whisper in her ear, “but you’re still going to help me, little one.”  He shoved her toward Dameron’s bedroom, and she stumbled. “Now move it.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't take offense if you are/were a Gateway user. I don't know why, but I just have an image of Poe at an old desktop computer with a joystick playing video games like a dweeb lmao. Thank you so much for your comments and just for reading! It means so much.


	3. mousey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! *hides*

 

 

 

_“See? I promised. You’re up,” he said, his head craning so he could whisper in her ear, “but you’re still going to help me, little one.”  He shoved her toward Dameron’s bedroom, and she stumbled. “Now move it.”_

* * *

 

Rey really wished she hadn’t left her phone in her purse. Or that Poe had one of those Alexa chicks that you could yell at to do menial tasks for you.

 

 

Like, “ _Hey, Alexa, call the fucking cops.”_

 

 

But he didn’t. She hated Poe Dameron more now than ever. And so, instead of dutifully answering authoritative questions with a “ _yes, officer”_ or “ _no officer”_ , she was seething, thoroughly debauched, and had her own slick coating the supple skin between her thighs.

 

 

Oh my _god_ , this was embarrassing.

 

 

She had long-since overcome the fear and anxiety of actually being held captive by a _felon_ , who had the full capacity to – she assumed – really, truly harm her. Like, murder her. Because he didn’t seem to have a gun, or any weapon but his bare hands, and so after a half hour had gone by without any bullet holes or stab wounds, she’d kinda grown….irritated.

 

 

The fact that she’d been on the brink of a sinfully wrong, breath-taking orgasm, only to be brutally pulled back from the precipice had absolutely nothing to do with her agitation.

 

 

Jesus, if she hadn’t felt especially repressed by her lack of a sex life before, she definitely did now. She couldn’t even get a criminal who’d had her _fucking tied up_ to get her off. Men. At least her migraine had passed.

 

 

No doubt the pain had been jostled out of her skull by this man’s obscenely thick cock being shoved in and out of her mouth.

 

 

Before she’d even realized her body’s response, her tongue had darted out to lick her lips.

 

 

Rey rolled her eyes upward in a silent plea of forgiveness as Kylo pushed her toward Poe’s room. She really didn’t need to watch where she was going, as he had her arms gripped tight and maneuvered her with each step he forced her to take.

 

 

When they came before Poe’s computer (and that was a loose term for the device), he stepped even closer, the heat radiating off his body through his sweatshirt, his clean yet musky smell curling around her.

 

And when he trapped her body between his and the desk, his hips tightly pressing up against her lower back, she stiffened. Was he…getting _fucking hard_ again? Jesus, was he _fucking 16?_ She took her lip into her mouth, worrying it with her tongue.

 

No. No. She couldn’t fucking do this. She tried spinning out of his grip, using her elbows to maim his torso. She tried dropping to her knees, using her weight to throw him off and unhand her. But she was seriously overpowered. He was too tall, too fit. And _not_ having it.

 

“ _Stop it_!” he rasped, pressing against her harder, a lock of his raven hair brushing her cheek as he leaned, no, towered over her. He shook her body for emphasis, and Rey let out a small cry. “The faster you cooperate, the faster I leave. Isn’t that what you want?” his voice vibrated against her ear.

 

Rey turned her head from his voice, refusing to acknowledge him.

 

 

She heard him chuckle, a rumble deep in his chest.

 

 

“No?” His bare hand reached around to caress her stomach, stroking her like she was his pet. “Or do you want to finish what we started? Hm?” His hand travelled lower, moving to the front of her shorts again, rubbing along the seam. “That’s it….” He smiled into her neck as her body went slack on its own accord. Ugh, she hated herself. The friction of his hand against the jean material was too much for her to process. But he knew. “Doesn’t that feel good, kitten? You love this, don’t you?” Hellcat to kitten. She practically purred. God, how did such a lowlife, morally corrupt stranger have a voice and touch that made her forget herself?

 

 

Mortified barely covered how she was feeling as she let her chin drop to her chest.

 

 

Abruptly, he pulled away and one of his hands went to nudge the mouse on the desk, bringing Poe’s computer screen to life.

 

 

She blinked as understanding dawned on her. This fucker.

 

 

“I don’t know it,” she stated, crossing her arms across her chest now that she was able. She could feel him bristle behind her. A pause.

 

 

Roughly, he gripped the flesh at her hips and jerked her back against him, grinding his now fully erect cock against her ass. She grit her teeth to fight back a moan and swore she would wait at least another minute before giving in.

 

 

“Yes you do,” he said at an especially hard, slow thrust of his hips. “Don’t.” She pushed back. “Lie.”

 

 

They were both panting, moving and arching against each other, a physical battle carrying on amidst the mental struggle that was transpiring simultaneously.

 

 

Because of course she was lying. She’d been on Poe’s computer hundreds of times, what with them being “friends first” before the short and sweet relationship of non-fucking had started. And they were still friends, and he trusted her. Obviously. He’d given her a key to his place and left her in charge of his frigging dog, his pride and joy.

 

Rey sometimes wondered if that dog was more important to him than her. Or Finn. Or anybody. She already knew the answer.

 

 

Rey grimaced as she reached the count of fifty-eight and all but dove for the keyboard, hurriedly typing out a string of letters and pressing **Enter** before craning her head back timidly to peer at the man behind her. She felt like Bebe, begging for a treat, bent over with her belly against the top of the desk.

 

 

He stretched his hand out against the back of her head and carded his fingers through her hair, which had fallen down with all her jerking and writhing. “Good girl,” he mumbled.

 

Rey rested her forehead on the desk in shame and relief and exhaustion as she felt her shorts slide down her legs and the blunt, warm tip of his cock press against her nether lips. She heard him hiss behind her.

 

“Say please, kitten,” he demanded indulgently, and she stayed quiet. He had to be kidding. She’d already given him what he wanted.

 

“I _said_ say please,” he said louder, rubbing the head of his cock slowly up and down her slit, letting it graze over the hood of her clit.

 

“Please,” she heard herself gasp into her arms, her face now flaming hot in shame and betrayal. The space between them was filled with that damn low chuckle of his. She knew he was pleased.

 

 

Then she felt the glide of his cock as he sunk into her, _so_ fucking slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to be fucking her on her ex-boyfriend’s desk. She keened and his hand tightened in her hair.

 

 

“ _Fuuuuck,_ you feel fucking _incredible_ , little one,” he said hoarsely, and she barely realized her head nodding in agreement against his fist.

 

 

He loomed over her back, turning her head by her hair, and Rey felt him press a gentle-as-fuck _kiss_ against her temple before pumping his cock in and out of her for the first time, moaning loudly and not giving a flying fuck who heard as her cunt welcomed him back in. He kept his lips against her, working into her.

 

 

She wanted to sob as he picked up the pace. Why did it feel so, so _good_? Was she that motherfucking depraved? She didn’t even know this man, this man who had _broken into this house_ , and she was letting him rut into her like he was paying for it. Like she had begged him to. And hadn’t she? Because after seeing his gorgeous, perfect cock….hadn’t she wanted it inside of her?

 

 

She thought about the feel of him against her lips earlier at the same time as he thrust upward against _that spot_ , and she became fucking _fearful._

 

“Please!” she gasped, “don’t….stop. Please, don’t stop.” Oh my god, she thought as she felt him still. And pull out. _Fuck_. Fuck! He ran a hand over her ass and gave it a squeeze. This was torture. Torture. She hated this man. Hated him. She was going to make him regret ever setting foot in this fucking _building._ Sweat was beading on her forehead and she was trembling. What the fuck, what the _fuck!?_

 

“Shhh,” he cooed to her, almost sweetly, “I won’t, little one.” Rey didn’t think he realized that was exatly what he had _just fucking done._ “I’ve got to work, though, kitten. You do too…” He slid into her again and her eyes rolled back into her head. “Mmmm, such a tight little cunt,” she heard him grunt as he ran a hand down her spine.

 

 

Stars began to glitter behind her eyes as the pressure that had seemingly been in her body for eons began to unravel, pleasure filling every fiber of her being. His murmurs of praise and groans of satisfaction only nudged her closer…closer…

 

 

Then she felt one of his hands go to the computer mouse and heard a furious bout of clicking. His hips were still working his cock into her, so _well_ too, but his eyes were scanning various files being opened and closed. His other hand kept spanning her back, rubbing her almost soothingly.

 

 

“Mmmm, _fuck_ yes!” he yelled into the room, and Rey saw a particularly large document being unloaded. The blue loading bar slowly reached completion and a long list of files surfaced on the screen. She watched his eyes scan down the list of hundreds, maybe thousands of documents, searching.

 

He stopped again, the lying son of a bitch, and Rey _just about fucking lost it_. She felt a tug on her hair.

 

“Get to work, little one….” He said quietly, not even looking at her, his dark eyes focused on the screen in front of them. She swallowed. She was _so close, damnit_.

 

Using her elbows as leverage, she wiggled her ass back against his hips, causing his dick to pump into her once again. _Yesss_ ….

 

She heard him hum in approval. She did it again and his fingers went to her hip to grip and squeeze. Her teeth banged together at the painful pleasure it caused.

 

Rey began to take what was hers, ramming her pussy back onto his cock, feeling it start to swell and stretch her even more. She was going to come, _god,_ she fucking _deserved to_ at this point. Her vision began to darken as she heard him speak to her, still looking at the screen.

 

“That’s it… _that’s it, baby_ … Fuck yourself on my cock, kitten.” She listened, gyrating against him harder and faster, the force of her ass against his hips vibrating her whole body with each slam backward.

 

 

She vaguely noticed a flash across the computer. And heard him chuck the mouse so hard against the wall that the cord snapped. She didn’t know – didn’t care- what the fuck was going on, but as he leaned over her, gripped her arms, and pulled her back against his chest, she was glad for it.

 

 

“God, you want to cum so bad, don’t you, you little whore?” he breathed into her ear. Did he sound angry? Rey, so scared now he would stop her, or pull away, or _fucking leave her like this_ , doubled her efforts, slamming her cunt back onto his cock so hard and so fast she had little time to be embarrassed.

 

She had gone too far now not to get what she wanted. She was going to fucking come if it was the last thing she did.

  

“Fuck, yes, yes,” she rattled out as he took over again, roughly pushing her down against the desk and honest-to-god _fucking_ her without restraint.

 

"Is  _this_ what you wanted?" he growled behind her, his hips snapping relentlessly. "Huh? Is it?" She felt two of his fingers start to circle around her clit. And then...then he fucking  _slapped_ the bundle of nerves. She let out a wail into the wood grain and he did it again. "Oh _fuck_ , little one. You love this big cock. You love having your pussy spanked, don't you??"

 

She came suddenly, _hard_. Her head was fuzzy and her body trembled under his hands. Rey heard him groaning, muttering almost under his breath. _Are you cumming, baby? Yes, fuck, cum on my cock, kitten, such a good girl._

Hot, sticky beads of his seed were dripping down her lower back, she realized as she drifted back into reality, breathing in gulps. _Jesus Christ_ , had she ever come so hard?

 

She was delirious. 

 

And then she was... cold? It dawned on her that the heat from his presence was gone, leaving her spread across Poe’s desk with his spend on her lower back, her thighs wet, and her shorts around her ankles.

 

She stood up straight and looked around. The screen in front of her flashed, in big red letters:

 

**NICE TRY, FUCKER :)**

Panicked, she scrambled to right herself and bolted out of the bedroom, coming to a halt as she saw him pulling his mask back over his face and moving to open the door. 

 

He must have heard her. She hadn't said anything.

 

He turned to her and for a second she thought, no, she was _sure_ he was going to say something. To her.

 

She could see his lips crushing together, as if to stop himself from speaking.

 

Then, pulling his dark eyes away from her, he opened the door and _left_.

 

 

Rey stood rooted to the spot, anchored by the feeling that she had been completely and utterly _used_. Big _fucking duh_ , she screamed at herself.

 

She stomped over to her purse and ripped it open to retrieve her phone. She was angry. Upset. And yet…she…that didn’t accurately describe how she really felt. Part of her wanted to burst into tears, the other beat someone’s face to bloody pulp.

 

As she was dialing, she heard little paws scratching at the metal of a crate. She gasped.

 

“Bebe!” she cried, rushing over to the forgotten pup. There was a little puddle on the wee-pad inside the crate. She felt _awful_. Unhooking the latch, she let the tiny yorkie rush out to greet her and broke into a smile as Bebe leapt up onto her legs, licking her hand as she ruffled the pup’s head.

 

A blip of light caught her eye then, on Bebe’s collar. Squinting at the dog’s neck, she crouched closer and fingered the source of the LED light, revealing a small USB drive of some sort. It was merely clipped to Bebe’s collar, much like an ID tag. She wondered…

 

 

Rey decided to be unbothered by the discovery. Resolutely, she hit the green button on her phone, making the call.

 

 

“911. Please state the location of your emergency.”

 

 

Rey rattled off Poe’s address and gave a brief, _censored_ , version of what had just happened.

 

 

 _God, what had just fucking happened_?

 

Rey listened to the operator, _Make sure you’re safe, lock the door, yadda yadda yadda_ , and zoned out, putting herself through every possible scenario that would unfold after the call.

 

The police would show up. Of course. She would give them all the information she could. That was relevant. They would search for the man who had broken in. Who had…..

 

 

She would likely be called in. When they found him.

 

 

She would _not_ , absolutely _not_ , cream her panties when she saw him in the line up.

 

 

“Ma’am? Ma’am, I need to know that you understand the instructions. Law enforcement will arrive shortly.”

 

                               

Rey cleared her throat over the phone.

 

 

“Yes. Yes, I understand. Thank you,” Rey responded. And then she hung up.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rey and Kylo. I feel bad for having him fail his cute little mission, but hey. Just glad I got this out of my system. Thanks for reading, guys! It's been fun =P

**Author's Note:**

> If you like, please let me know! :-*


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